


(You're) The Fire and the Flood

by fearfully_beautifully_made



Series: And So It Goes [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Honeymoon, M/M, Smut, Top John Watson, Wedding Planning, Weddings, how is that not already a tag?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearfully_beautifully_made/pseuds/fearfully_beautifully_made
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the sequel to Lay Me Down.  There will be weddings, and honeymoons, and fluff, and smut.  There will be bad guys and our heroes will be excellent heroes as ever.</p>
<p>I fear I am still no better at coming up with titles, so in keeping with the theme of this series, the series' title is borrowed from the Billy Joel song And So It Goes and the title for this work is borrowed from Vance Joy's song Fire and the Flood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step One: Pick a Color, Any Color

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers! This work is indeed a sequel to Lay Me Down... You probably could read this without reading Lay Me Down first but I fear some of it might be a little bit (a lot) confusing.
> 
> More tags will be added as I continue to write this fic.
> 
> I still own nothing and, as ever, I make no profit from my writing.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ John _

If John thought getting married the first time was a challenge he was not prepared whatsoever for the challenges that laid ahead for his second.  They had been trying to plan for two weeks and had precious little to show for it.  Truth be told, he was feeling ready to rip his hair out as he sat in the living room of 221B amid an array of papers, and color splotches, and computer screens.  Why the hell did Sherlock have so many laptops?

John rubbed at his eyes tiredly as Sherlock continued rambling on about colors.  He’d covered the wall in the living room (the one usually reserved for Crime scene photos and information) with potential sites, and dates, and color stories, and currently had six different guest lists tacked to the wall. 

“Sherlock.” John interrupted, “To be honest with you I really don’t give a damn about whether we pick persian blue or royal blue, I can’t even tell the difference.”

Sherlock glared at him, not for the first time, “You cared for your last wedding.”

“No I bloody well didn’t.” John said in exasperation.  “ _ You _ cared for my last wedding. Mary cared for my last wedding.  Mary went back and forth between lavender and periwinkle for weeks.”

“Lilac, John.  Your last wedding color was lilac.”

John threw his hands up in the air, “My point exactly.”  He looked over at Sherlock who seemed completely overwhelmed.  He was sitting on the floor and held one of the blue fabrics in his hand, running his fingers over it again and again; he looked so impossibly young sometimes.

John sighed and stood up and walked around the table to sit behind Sherlock, he spread his legs and slid forward until Sherlock’s back was pressed against his chest.  It took a moment but eventually Sherlock relaxed against him.  John pressed a kiss to his temple, “Look.” he said softly.  “I love you and I am marrying  _ you _ ; I’m not married to any of these fabric choices, or venues, or any of the guests who are going to be in attendance.”

“Well you were married to one of them.” Sherlock muttered.

“Is that what this is about?” John asked softly, pulling Sherlock back against him more tightly and wrapping his arms around his chest.

“Don’t be ridiculous, John.” Sherlock huffed but John thought he might have just reached the crux of the problem.  He pressed a kiss to the top of Sherlock’s spine exposed above his shirt.

“It’s not a competition.” John said.  “Our wedding is going to be entirely different.”

“Except for most of the guests, as the ones in attendance at your first wedding were mostly yours.  Comparison is inevitable John.”

“But Sherlock, everyone we’re inviting has wanted  _ us _ to be together since we met.  You broke everyone’s hearts with your best man’s speech.  Do you have any idea how many people I’ve had tell me that since I told them we were together?  Everyone felt so sorry for you because you had to give the best man speech for the man you were in love with and everyone knew it except me.”  He pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s curls, “It was quite a good speech.  Janine’s was completely terrible by comparison.”  Sherlock snorted and John could feel him relaxing, “Everyone coming will just be happy that we’ve finally gotten our heads out of our arses and are getting married.”

When Sherlock said nothing, John continued after a moment, “Honestly Sherlock, this can be a small affair, I’ll pick one of these colors, and I’ll pick my favorite place to be outdoors in.  But if I pick something I’m not going to be upset if you’d rather have something different.  I think it’s fairly clear which of us cares more about the details of wedding planning and it isn’t me.”

“You don’t want a big wedding?” Sherlock asked.

John shook his head, “Not particularly.”

“But you wanted a big wedding with her.”  What Sherlock didn’t say, but John heard loudly and clearly regardless was  _ why not with me _ ?

“No I didn’t, Mary did.  I didn’t even really know half the people that came to my wedding.” He took Sherlock’s hands in his and held up the persian blue and royal blue swatches by extension.  He hadn’t the foggiest which was which, he looked at both colors and held up Sherlock’s right hand a little higher, “This one.” he said.  “I like this one better.  It’s only for ties and pocket squares regardless, yes?”

Sherlock nodded, “You think this is the best color for all of us to wear?”

John shrugged, “I don’t really know, but I like this one better with your complexion.” He watched in amusement as a flush spread up Sherlock’s neck.

Sherlock cleared his throat, “Yes, well, either of these with bring out your eyes perfectly and will make you look quite handsome.”

John grinned, “You like the other one better don’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.” John said with a chuckle.  “It’s perfect, I love it.  Use the other one.  Which one is that?”

“Persian blue.” Sherlock mumbled.  

“Settled.” John said, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s neck once more before standing up.  He pulled the swatch of fabric from Sherlock’s fingers and crossed to the wall.  He proceeded to tack the swatch of fabric on the wall, then he pulled down all the color pallets off the wall that weren’t labeled ‘ _ persian blue’ _ and binned them.

Sherlock blinked at him, “Did we actually just decide something about our wedding?” he asked.

“Yes.  Yes, we did.” John said grinning at him.  

“Right.” said Sherlock, clapping his hands together and smirking up at John.  “You can take down the three longest lists.” John raised an eyebrow at him quizzically, Sherlock had been insistent on the longest lists mere hours ago.  Sherlock shrugged, “I thought you wanted a big wedding but were compromising for my sake.  I don’t want to be surrounded by all those ghastly people either.”

John let out a bark of a laugh and shook his head as he pulled down the three longest lists and binned them as well.

“Okay.” Sherlock said, exhaling in a gust.  “That eliminated the third, fourth, mmmmh and sixth locations for the reception as well.”

“Stellar.” John said pulling down the venues marked three, four, and six.  “See that wasn’t so hard.  Anything else we can eliminate outright?” he asked.  Sherlock shook his head and John turned to look at him, “I think you deserve a reward for making this momentous decision.”

“What did you have in mind?” Sherlock asked schooling his features to look seriously at John.

“Hmmmm.” John said, stalking over to Sherlock and pulling him up off the floor and into a loose embrace.  He pressed his lips to Sherlock’s and leisurely stroked across the seam with his tongue, Sherlock groaned and allowed him access.  John rubbed his tongue across Sherlock’s before running it across Sherlock’s teeth.  Sherlock melted against him, apparently the stress hadn’t only been affecting him negatively if Sherlock’s desire to be close was anything to go by.

John pulled back and stroked the curls off his face, “Next time, instead of both of us getting worked up into a state, why don’t you actually talk to me about what’s bothering you.” 

Sherlock stared at him, “Nothing was wrong, John.” he replied stubbornly.

John shook his head and kissed him again, “Sherlock Holmes, you may be able to lie to everyone else but you can’t lie to me.” John kissed his forehead and then the tip of his nose.  “I love you.” he said again, “The ridiculous kind of love where I can’t stop babbling once I start about how much I adore you.  I want to marry you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life and I want this day to be absolutely perfect for you because I’m never letting you get married again.”

“I’d never want to.” Sherlock replied.

“Good.” John said, toppling Sherlock over onto the sofa and landing on top of him.  The open affection with which Sherlock looked up at him threatened to make John’s heart stop.  He was so open and unguarded and John’s chest swelled with love and joy.

John pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and gentle, and let his body meld to Sherlock’s.  Sherlock seemed content with this as he wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders and kissed him back.  Sherlock’s hands slipped up under John’s jumper and under his vest, stroking the warm skin there.  John hummed against his lips and started pressing kisses to Sherlock’s jaw and neck.

Sherlock tilted his head back giving John better access, which John took complete advantage of.  “What do you think?” he murmured between kisses.  “Should we get off out here on the sofa like a couple of randy teenagers or should we go to bed so we can just fall asleep when we’re done?”

“Is this what it felt like to be a randy teenager?” Sherlock asked as his hips twitched up against John’s.

John laughed, “Pretty much, yes.”  John sucked a bruise onto Sherlock’s collarbone. (They’d decided anything that couldn’t be seen above the shirt collar was fine since they both had to at least look like professionals) Sherlock groaned as John sucked and laved at the sensitive skin; his hips bucking up to grind against John.  

“Randy teenagers.” Sherlock gasped out.

“Hmmm?” John asked, his fingers setting to work at Sherlock’s buttons straining against his chest as he arched his back.

“Out here, like randy teenagers.  I’ve decided.”

John grinned and continued pressing kisses down Sherlock’s body as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.  He pulled it out of Sherlock’s trousers and slipped it off his shoulders before circling his thumbs over Sherlock’s peaked nipples.  

Sherlock hissed and arched his back further into John’s touch, sometimes John still couldn’t believe how incredibly sensitive Sherlock was and he didn’t seem to be losing any of that sensitivity as he acclimated to their relationship.  Because he simply couldn’t resist, he bent his head over Sherlock’s chest and ran his tongue flat across Sherlock’s nipple before turning his tongue into a point and circling his areola.

“John.” Sherlock breathed out, and it was so soft, so reverent that John’s heart stuttered at the unguarded affection in his tone.  

John looked up and pressed a kiss to the center of Sherlock’s chest, “I love you.”

Sherlock’s fingers came down and tangled in John’s hair, giving him a light tug to bring his lips back to Sherlock’s.  Sherlock kissed him sweetly, “I love you, too.” he whispered.

John grinned and nipped at his lips before moving back down his chest and straddling Sherlock’s thighs so he could unbutton and unzip his trousers.  He leaned down again and mouthed at the head of Sherlock’s cock through his pants.  Sherlock’s hips bucked up at John as he sucked through the fabric, completely saturating the black silk.

“John.” Sherlock groaned again.  

John looked up at him and grinned, he loved nights when Sherlock lost himself in John, when all he could say and all he could think about was him.  Sherlock became less vocal those nights and more needy and John positively doted on Sherlock when he was needy.  Nights like tonight made John feel like he was putting Sherlock back together, that somehow he was healing old wounds and preventing new ones from occurring.

“Don’t worry, love.” John said, wiggling Sherlock’s black skin tight briefs down his thighs, “I’ll take care of you.”

Sherlock nodded at him and groaned as John worked his trousers and pants off his legs.  There was simply no sexy way (or even a good way) to get trousers and pants completely off while lying on a sofa; John struggled through it though, pressing soft kisses to Sherlock’s thighs and knees and shins as he went.

Sherlock gasped and made soft mewling noises which only served to make John more aroused and feel more tenderness for this incredible man.  He kissed down to the soles of Sherlock’s feet, and then looked up the length of Sherlock’s body sprawled with abandon across the sofa.  He was stunning, with his alabaster skin painted pink, his eyes dark with arousal, lips red from being bitten.  “You are positively gorgeous.”

Sherlock merely reached out for John’s hand and pulled him back down onto his body before shucking John’s jumper and vest.  Sherlock ran his finger lightly, over John’s chest and abdomen, not saying a word but John could see him storing away information again.  John wondered as he watched his lover if Sherlock stored the data for comparison or if he just updated it as he went.  He wondered how much he’d changed since Sherlock began documenting his body.  

Sherlock reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped John’s trousers and John took the hint and gracelessly squirmed out of both pieces until he was naked, too.  John then proceeded to cover Sherlock’s body with his own, caging in Sherlock’s head with his arms and kissing him once more as he rutted his erection against Sherlock’s.  Sherlock groaned and tipped his head back, gasping for breath, and his arms came up around John’s shoulders, clawing at his back.  “John, please.” he whispered.

John pressed kisses to Sherlock’s throat as he reached into the drawer in the stand beside the table and fumbled around for lube.  On nights like these, Sherlock nearly always wanted John to be inside of him; he just need the reassurance that John was his and he wasn’t going anywhere.  But John didn’t want to be presumptuous, perhaps especially on nights like tonight when Sherlock was so enraptured by him, he just wanted to give Sherlock anything and everything he wanted.

John poured some lube on his palm before spreading it on Sherlock’s cock, stroking him gently.  Treasuring the way Sherlock arched his back and pressed into John, making soft gasping sounds.

“What do you think, love?” John asked, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek, “Do you want to come like this?”

Sherlock shook his head and tipped it to look at John, his eyes pleading, “I want you.” he whispered, eyes clouding with tears.

John pressed his lips to Sherlock’s once more, “I’m right here, love.  You’ve got me, I’m not going anywhere.  Ever.” he trailed his hand lower, pausing at Sherlock balls to roll them in his palm before drifting lower to massage his perineum, then finally that tiny pucker of Sherlock’s flesh.  He rubbed at it gently before inserting one of his fingers, Sherlock tilted his hips up and wrapped his legs around John’s waist encouraging him.  

He prepared Sherlock’s slowly, pressing kisses to his lips and cheeks and every other bit of skin he could reach as he did so.  Whispering how beautiful he was, how much John adored him.  When Sherlock was panting and his fingers were digging into John’s back John withdrew his fingers, “Ready, love?”

Sherlock nodded and opened his eyes, to watch John’s face.  John slicked up his cock and lined himself up with Sherlock’s hole, pressing in slowly and maintaining eye contact the entire way in.  When he was fully seated he paused to give Sherlock a moment to adjust and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Alright?” he asked as he brushed the tears away that had formed in the corners of his eyes.  John was never really quite sure what did it, but there was something about penetrative sex that always made Sherlock tear up a bit and the sight of Sherlock’s tears always made his stomach clench and his own eyes mist up as well.

Sherlock nodded again and hiked his legs up higher around John’s back, John took the hint and lift his legs up over his shoulders, bending him in half to press their lips together once more.  John was in perpetual amazement of Sherlock’s body, but never more so than when he allowed John to bend him and position him and make love to him.

“John.” Sherlock murmured a note of pleading in his voice and John began to rock slowly in and out of Sherlock’s body, the angle causing him to brush against Sherlock’s prostate on every stroke.

Sherlock arched his back and panted, making soft whimpering noises as his hips thrust back against John, urging him to push faster and harder without words.  John obliged and reached down to take Sherlock’s neglected cock in his fist.  Sherlock’s eyes flew open and he looked up at John, his mouth open in a perfect ‘O.’  “John.” he said desperately, a high pitched keen escaping his mouth, “John!” and he came explosively, come painting his chest and stomach.  

John snapped his hips forward a few more times as Sherlock’s hole clenched down like a vice around him and he came groaning out Sherlock’s name.  He pulled Sherlock’s legs down off his shoulders and collapsed on top of him.

Sherlock’s hands came up to wrap around John, one stroking up and down his back while the other tangled in his hair.  John buried his nose in Sherlock’s neck, breathing in the scent of  _ them _ as he pressed kisses to the skin he found there.

“I got scared.” Sherlock said softly.  

John’s body froze for a moment at the admission but he resumed pressing kisses into Sherlock’s skin when his brain registered he’d stopped.

“Your wedding with Mary was beautiful and touching.  It was perfect.” Sherlock said softly.

“Well, aside from the fact that someone almost got murdered of course.” John said against Sherlock’s collarbone.

“We saved a man’s life!” Sherlock said, affronted.

“That we did.” John acknowledged. 

“And besides,” Sherlock said with a sniff, “I got to prove how clever I am and we solved one of the cases that had positively plagued me.”

John laughed and raised himself up on his forearms, “I love you, you madman.” he pressed his lips to Sherlock’s.  “I can’t promise there will be an attempted murder at our wedding, but I can promise that there won’t be a dry eye.  I can promise that everyone there is going to be overjoyed for us.  And I can promise that it will be the happiest day of my life.”


	2. Step Two: Obtain the Best Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darlings, I am terribly sorry for the delay; my work has been a bear and I have just had too many things going on lately. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Blessings.

_ Sherlock _

Sherlock paced about the flat with Evelyn balanced on his hip.  He had a challenge that he wasn’t quite prepared to face.  It was ludicrous, really, considering all the things he had done in his life, all of the obstacles he’d overcome.  

John came out of the bathroom behind him and put a hand on Sherlock’s lower back, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s temple then to the crown of Evelyn’s head.  

Sherlock turned to return the kiss but was distracted by the outside door opening and footsteps moving steadily up the stairs.  The shoes were expensive and if you listened closely you could hear an umbrella brushing against an expensive pair of trousers.

“You didn’t.” Sherlock hissed at John.

John shrugged, “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

There was a knock on the door frame before Mycroft came in.

“Hi, Mycroft.” John called out, “I was just headed to put on some tea, would you care for a cup?”

Sherlock glared at John, he couldn’t believe he’d done this.

“That would be delightful.  Thank you, John.” Mycroft answered, moving into the living room.  “ Greetings, brother dearest.  How may I be of assistance?” Mycroft asked casually.  “Are you wanting a better security system?  I do have several I can recommend.  Or is it a case?  Something a bit too challenging?”

Sherlock sneered at him, “As if I’d need your help with a case.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Mycroft answered mildly as he sat down in Sherlock’s chair.

Sherlock inwardly seethed, ready to change his mind about the entire ordeal.

“Really, boys.” John said, coming back into the room and nudging Sherlock toward the sofa.  Sherlock sat down and let Evelyn stand on his thighs with her chubby hands pressed against his chest for balance.  “You’re both brilliant, can’t we just leave it at that?”

John handed a cup of tea to Mycroft and made Sherlock’s perfectly for him.  He handed it to him and said, “Right.  We have something we’d like to ask you.” 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, “As I’ve already said, I have some security systems I’d be glad to recommend.”

“It’s not about a bloody security system!” Sherlock blurted out.

John took a sip of his tea, “You owe the swear jar money.”

“He’s being unreasonable, John.” Sherlock complained.

John hummed, “It’s not about a security system.” John said.  He turned and looked at Sherlock, “Go on, then.”

Sherlock huffed, “ _ Iwantyoutobemybestman _ .” The words rushed out of Sherlock’s mouth and tumbled together.  John looked over at Sherlock in amusement, sure he was going to have to repeat himself.

Mycroft gaped at Sherlock and his cup of tea slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor, the tea cup shattering at his feet and spilling liquid on the bottom of his trousers.  It went entirely unnoticed by everyone except John as Mycroft and Sherlock stared at one another.  

John stood a moment later and moved to get a towel.  When John was over wiping up the tea Mycroft startled and glanced down at him.  “Oh.” he murmured, a flush tinging his cheeks, “I’m dreadfully sorry.”

John waved him off, “It’s alright.  I should have known better than to give a Holmes a cup of tea when he was being asked to be a best man.” he said with a grin.

John took the towel and broken pieces of tea cup to the kitchen and Mycroft turned to look at Sherlock once more.  “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked sounding more insecure than Sherlock had ever heard him sound

Sherlock swallowed and nodded once.  “Don’t feel obligated.  I  _ completely _ understand the challenge I am asking you to undertake and wouldn’t hold it against you if you declined.”

Mycroft nodded, “I am honoured, little brother.  I shall do my very best.” he said firmly.

“I know.” Sherlock replied.

Mycroft rose from the chair as John was coming back out with a fresh cup of tea.  “Are you leaving already?” John asked.

Mycroft nodded, “I fear there is much to be done and even more to be thought about.” he said.  He dropped a file on the coffee table, “You should really consider some of those security options even if that’s not why you summoned me here.”  He moved toward the door before turning back and asking, “With whom will I be sharing my best man duties?”

“John’s asking Lestrade." Sherlock said.  "There was a bit of an argument about which of us got Lestrade but as John doesn’t think his sibling will actually be in attendance, you ended up being mine.”  This wasn’t strictly true and everyone knew it.  Sherlock couldn’t have imagined having anyone apart from his brother as his best man but he didn’t need to dignify the thought with words.

Mycroft hummed thoughtfully, “So, the Detective Inspector will be in attendance at your wedding?”

Sherlock turned to look at Mycroft with narrowed eyes, “What does it matter to you if George is at our wedding?”

“Gregory.” Mycroft corrected absently.  When he realized what he said the very tips of his ears turned pink. 

“My, my brother dearest.  Have you found yourself a goldfish?” Sherlock asked with a grin.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sherlock.”  Mycroft snapped.

“A goldfish?  What on earth are you two on about?” John asked.

“Nothing.” they both answered in unison.

Mycroft cleared his throat and pointed his umbrella at the file on the table, “Don’t forget to look at your security options.” he said before turning on his heel and leaving the flat.

John grinned at Sherlock, “See, not so bad.”

Sherlock chuckled and said, “You only think that because you’ve no idea what’s going through Mycroft’s mind.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to be an excellent best man.”

“Yes.” Sherlock said simply.  “It’s just not something either of us ever expected.”

John smiled at Sherlock and Sherlock smiled back.  “One down, one to go.” 

_ John _

Asking John’s best man had been a rather less planned out occurrence than getting Sherlock to ask Mycroft had been.  

It happened one day when Sherlock and John had gone out on a walk with Evelyn, both of them simply feeling a bit stir crazy and needing a break from wedding planning.  They were walking in the park, Evelyn had fallen asleep in the harness around Sherlock’s chest and John couldn’t help grinning at the picture the two of them made.  The walk was lovely and idyllic, and as such was bound not to last.

The thing that would have spoiled the serenity of their walk for any normal family was that they happened upon a crime scene in the park.  When they looked past the police tape they could see Lestrade and Donovan standing over a dead body.  Sherlock’s eyes lit up and he looked over at John pleadingly.  He looked like a child whose friends were playing on the playground and wanted to be allowed to play, too. “Yes. Yes, alright.” John said, with a chuckle.  He set down the diaper bag and they got Sherlock unhooked from the harness and Evelyn settled against John’s chest, Sherlock’s body thrumming with excitement the entire time.

They ducked under the tape with a nod to the officer standing guard and headed over toward the body.

“You look like you could use a little help.” Sherlock called out.

Greg and Sally turned to look at them, Sally scowled and Greg looked confused.  He also looked exhausted, John noted.

“Did I text you?” Greg asked, befuddled.

Sherlock snorted and John said, “No, we just happened to be in the neighborhood.  We were out on a walk and saw you over here.”

Greg nodded and gestured to the corpse, “Be my guest, then.  There’s been a string of them; this is the fifth park that we’ve found someone dead in over the past two days.  There aren’t any physical wounds and when Molly examines them she says they’ve all died from heart attacks.”

Sherlock nodded and walked over to the body, Sally followed him over but Greg turned to John.  “How are you doing?” John asked.

Greg shrugged, “This case has been a mess from the get go.  We’re running a little ragged; we can't figure out how this is happening.”

John nodded sympathetically.  Greg grinned at him, “What about you?  How are you?  How’s wedding planning going?”

John rolled his eyes, “We picked the date, we’ve picked the colors, we have the caterer lined up, it’s down to two venues, and last night we finished the A list for the wedding; the B list if people say they can’t come is still a point of contention.”

“And I found Evie’s dress.” Sherlock called from where he was examining the body.

John laughed, “And Sherlock found a perfect dress for Evelyn.” John sighed, “He’s very detail oriented and I’m sure I frustrate him endlessly because I don’t care about the particulars.  I just want to marry him, everything else is fluff.”  

Greg nodded sympathetically, “It was like that with my ex when we got married.  Her maid of honor was a god send, though.”

“Yeah, Mary adored Sherlock when we were planning ours.” John said.  “But he’s asked Mycroft to be his best man so I don’t think that’s really going to help.  Speaking of which, would you do the honors?” 

“You want me to be your best man?” Greg asked surprised.

“Yeah.” John replied.  “I don’t know who else I’d ask.”

“Yeah.  Alright.” Greg said with a grin.

Sherlock looked up at the two of them, “That’s it?” he asked.

Greg and John looked at each other then back at Sherlock, “What do you mean?” John asked.

“You just asked him in the most casual way imaginable, you didn't even say the actual words and he just said ‘Yeah, alright.’ as though he were agreeing to go to the pub with you for a beer.” Sherlock said wrinkling up his nose.

John laughed, “I’m not sure what you were expecting.”

Sherlock grumbled under his breath and bent back over the corpse.  A moment later he looked back up and said, “Ethylene glycol.”

“Come again?” Lestrade said.

“They’re being poisoned with Ethylene glycol, obviously.  It mimics the effects of a heart attack and liver failure.  It’s undetectable on its own because the body has metabolized it.  To be sure you’d have to have Molly check to see if there are high amounts of calcium oxalate in the victim’s blood.  Oxalic acid is the product of the metabolization of ethylene glycol.

“As for the who,” Sherlock continued, “It’s a barista at a coffee shop.”

“A coffee shop?” Greg asked.

Sherlock nodded, “The victim has a receipt in her pocket from Flat White, on Berwick St. the barista’s name on her receipt was Tessa.  Check to see if the other victims have been there, too.  I’m not entirely sure why she’s targeting runners but she seems to be slipping a bit of poison in all of their drinks.” 

Sherlock paused in his deductions for a moment, “It’s clever really, working in a coffee shop and poisoning people with ethylene glycol.  It’s easy to find, bring a bit of antifreeze and you’re set.  It’s also odorless and tasteless aside from tasting a bit sweet, if your victim is already drinking something sweet in their coffee they wouldn’t even notice it.” Sherlock finished with a shrug.

“Right.” Lestrade said, he pulled out his phone and dialed Molly.

“We’re off, then.” Sherlock said with a pleased grin; he took John’s hand in his and they left, heading back toward Baker Street.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” John said, squeezing Sherlock’s hand in his.

Sherlock laughed, “I’ve been told that one occasion.”

“I love you.” John said.

“I’ve been told that on occasion, too.” Sherlock replied.

 


End file.
